Fade
by Fortunate Misfortunes
Summary: One shot- Prussia, hinted GerIta -Warning: vary vague; kinda more of a therapy piece, but deals with Prussia fading, and the changes after the Wall came down.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything, just manipulated these characters to suit my mood.

I'll probably end up deleting this. It's more or less just a means of getting some stuff off my chest. Writing is a therapy, right?

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It had begun once the wall had gone up. They say separation makes the heart grow fonder, and perhaps under different circumstances that saying would have rang true once more. But not this time.

October saw the fall of that hideous monstrosity that had kept divided the once strong nation of Germany. Free were the people to venture back to their family's waiting arms. Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers; none remained separated any longer.

It should have been expected. But, it wasn't. No. He had foolishly believed that his little brother would still be just that. Instead of a frail, broken blond, he found, something different. The wall had done nothing if not strengthened the young nation. He stood tall, and proud; a perfect model for his people, the embodiment of their determination and ability to bounce back from anything the world threw at them.

And yet, here he himself stood. Not quite as straight, or as tall. Silver hair looking a little duller. Even his once vibrant red eyes seemed faded, having lost their drive.

That day, when the wall had fallen, was a day the former nation would not soon forget. He had heard of his brother's fight to eliminate the concrete mass, had seen news broadcasts, heard the stories on the radio, whenever he could. Little by little, a new sense of hope had risen. Soon, soon this thing would be gone, and life could go on, he had thought. Life would return to normal.

And perhaps it had. But not for him.

Prussia was a foreign name, used now only in history books. His own people had lost their ability to pronounce it. Instead, the name of the land was replaced with the that of his younger brother. His own people weren't Prussian any more, they were German.

And that was fine. He would be content knowing that his people, or rather the people that had once been his were safe.

As he looked out the window from where he sat as his desk, he could see the bustling city of Berlin, long since rebuilt from its war-torn state, although its scars still remained. Through his open door came the sounds of voices from the kitchen, a mixture of German and Italian being spoken.

Standing up, he made his way down the stairs until he was level with the kitchen. There he could see his brother and his… life partner, busily making dinner and discussing the day's events. He lowered his head to his folded arms resting on the banister.

So this is what it felt like to be replaced.

It was a feeling he could only liken to the repetitive stinging of bees to the same spot; his heart. Or what was left of it.

But, as he had said before, this was fine. He had seen this coming the very moment the wall had fallen and he had gazed into those sky blue eyes. Those eyes had looked right through him. Gone was the brother he had known, who had idolized him, strove for only his attention, and needed only him.

The letter in his hand fell to the ground with a swooshing noise, unnoticed by the other two nations. Startled, he reached down to pick it up, noticing for the first time how blurred his vision had gotten, how cold the air of the house felt on his dampened cheeks.

Still, he felt a bitter smile tugging at his lips. Getting back up, he forced his shoulders back, trying to stand tall once last time.

The letter in his hand grew heavy. Should he? Would it make much difference?

In a final act of defiance (against what, he'd never tell) he shredded the paper, holding the tiny pieces in his hand.

The kitchen neared as he walked closer, keeping an even stride, smile still plastered across his lips, tears still streaming down his cheeks. Each step felt lighter, and lighter, until he didn't feel the ground any more, didn't feel anything.

The small Italian boy opened the kitchen's lone window after the German had barked something about it getting too warm, and as he did a gentle breeze drifted into the room.

Tiny bits of paper danced around the two occupants of the kitchen like snowflakes. Both nations looked on with an expression of confusion, none more then the tall blond who could have sworn he had heard the whispered words of _'good bye'._

One lone shred of paper landed in front of the blond, the word_ 'West'_ in a messy scrawl the thing written on it. A single tear trailed down a sky blue eye.

_So this is the feeling of being left alone, isn't it brother? I'm sorry I put you through that._

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End


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